BACKFIRE
by Dreamer1985
Summary: An unexpected guest shows up. Who is she and what is she there for?  I suck at summaries, please read anyway
1. Chapter 1

NOT to be copyrighted, sold, or published. Mr. Roarke, Tattoo, and Fantasy Island are not of my own creation. Cassandra Jean Maszy and a few of her college friends are, but those are the only ones I created.

BACKFIRE

Please read and review, it helps my motivation to keep writing.

"De Plane! De Plane!" Could be heard echoing off the well known island as Tattoo

hollered to let his boss, and anyone within hearing distance, know that they had a visitor

coming.

Mr. Roarke hurried to put on his jacket and rushed out the door. However so caught up

was he in getting to the standard greeting spot that he about bowled his employee, Tattoo,

over. "What's wrong boss? I've never seen you bolt out of the door like that."

"Nothing's wrong. I was just lost in time is all. Now let's go greet our guest." The

magistrate's face showed annoyance at the question and masked well the confusion

inside himself as he'd not expected any visitors until tomorrow. But, nonetheless, the red

car resembling some glorified golf cart carried them to their destination.

Standing side by side the tall magistrate, and his miniature assistant, waited for the

plane to land. The pilot set the plane smoothly next to the dock. Upon the door opening a

woman wearing a long flowing black dress covered with black lace stepped out.

The dark blue, red, and purple flowers residing on the outer, see through, garment

complimented the dress, and her figure, quite nicely. Her long wavy brown hair

flowed over her shoulders and reached halfway down her back. She wasn't knock them

dead gorgeous, but the man wouldn't call her an eyesore either. Tattoo, flirt that he was,

had his eyes needed to be put back into place.

"Tattoo!" It was only his name, but it was enough for the assistant to get a normal

appearance on his face.

"So, who is she and what's her fantasy?" Tattoo glanced up at Roarke.

"Her name is none of your business, and her fantasy, well… It's private. Just be nice,

and NO flirting." Turning to his guest he raised the glass which had been brought to him,

"Welcome, welcome to Fantasy Island. I'm Mr. Roarke your host."

The woman's physical appearance may not have unhinged the magistrate, but her eyes

did. Sure, a lot of people arriving on the island looked nervously excited, but her eyes

only showed nerves, and uncertainty, and a deepness he hadn't seen since…. Mentally he

shook his head refusing to 'go there', and uncomfortable with the fact he really didn't

know who she was, nor what she was here for, but that wasn't something he'd have

admitted to his minute helper.

"Please show our guest to her bungalow." Mr. Roarke told a native girl who had walked

up to his side on his signal. "Give her the one closest to my office."

"But boss, that's …" One dart from his employer shut Tattoo up.

Others around him may not have been able to read his eyes, but Cassandra had, and what

she'd seen made her more than a tad jumpy. Following the native girl to the bungalow

she nodded her head and shut the door as her mind was on Roarke's greeting. It had been

polite, and it had been all within proper bounds, but…fingering the envelope inside the

only pocket the dress held she sighed as she sat down in a comfortable white chair against

the wall leading into the kitchen.

"I hope I haven't wasted my time, or his. What if …" Her voice trailed off as she let

out a silent groan. Holding the side of her head she felt like bawling out of frustration if

nothing else. "Heaven help us, if I've been a fool."

Mr. Roarke sat at his desk thumbing his desk as he leaned back in his chair with his

arms folded, and one hand lifted to his cheek. First thing he'd done on getting back to his

office was to make some private calls; off the records Tattoo would see. And what he

found confused him even more. He could still part of the conversation he'd had with a

P.I. he'd occasionally call without anyone knowing it.

" _Cassandra Jean Alders. Thirty five, has three degrees. One in music, one in _

_education, and one qualifying her to be a deaf interpreter. She still goes to the local _

_college in her spare time to take elective classes. Things like dance and such.."_ Questions

from Roarke had followed the voice on the other end, silence followed only to pick up

with the sound of rattling papers_. "No, she's not wealthy, and no, she's not due any _

_inheritance, but she's as honest as the day is long. Anything else?_

Of course the answer had been no. Some more leg work he'd not tell anyone about had

been done, but it had brought no more answers than the call with Mr. Gregory. Guess

he'd just have buy some time, therefore he called Tattoo in.

"Please tell Cassandra, our latest guest, I beg leave of attending to her needs right now. I

have urgent business that needs attending to."

"What business? I thought all the emergencies were over."

"I do not have to tell you _**everything,**_ now do I? Now, just go and tell her." Only when

his assistant left did the man sit back down once more.

_What is it that brought you here, Cassandra? Your eyes said I knew you, or at least _

_know of you. What is it that you were fingering in your pocket? And why haven't you _

_come to me asking questions eager to start a fantasy like any normal guest would?_ The

answers would have to wait he had things to do.


	2. Chapter 2

NOT to be copyrighted, sold, or published. Mr. Roarke, Tattoo, and Fantasy Island are not of my own creation. Cassandra Jean Maszy and a few of her college friends are, but those are the only ones I created.

BACKFIRE

Please read and review, it helps my motivation to keep writing.

Part 2

Cassandra, who preferred the name Cassie, slipped into a suit made up of a pair of

lavender pants, shirt, and jacket. Her sandals, ear-rings and headband matched. She found

herself as giddy as some foolish teenager. Sure, Tattoo had swung by and said Roarke had

urgent business to attend to, but that didn't mean she was going to stay shut up, no, she'd

mix with the other guests and make herself as useful as possible. The woman did her best

to set aside any thought of a particular white envelope sitting in the top drawer of the dark

brown dresser next to the bed. Slipping out of the room she wondered around hoping to

find a way to put herself to use.

"I tried, Mom, but he makes no sense." The frustrated voice belonged to a boy about

nine standing on the bounds of green lawn near the bungalows closest to the dock.

However hard he tried to do the coin trick shown to him by a magician he just could

not do it. The mother started to open her mouth only to be stopped by the island's newest

guest.

"Here , try this." Cassie squatted down and showed the boy a trick her grandfather had

handed down to her. The boy caught on amazingly well.

"Gee, thanks! I'm going to go show my brother!"

"Your welcome." Both his mother, and she laughed, as the boy ran off to 'show his

brother off'.

"Anything else I can help with?"

"No, I just wish Roarke would have told us it was you we needed to talk to, and not that

idiot magician his assistant pointed us towards."

"I'm sure he just forgot. You know he's very busy." It probably wasn't right to mislead

the woman, but, no other reply had come to her mind. Just then her ears caught some

woman griping to Tattoo.

"I don't care where he's at. I paid good money for this fantasy. Either he delivers, or I

want my money back!" The woman was so busy yelling she didn't hear Cassie walk up,

but she couldn't fail to feel her daughter against her jerk up and try to get out of her arms.

"Such a lovely daughter you have. May I hold her?"

"Uh, sure.. I.." The woman was left speechless as her girl practically threw herself into

the stranger's arms.

"Pwetty, pwetty. Can I play?"

Speaking out of habit Cassie corrected her wording. "It's may I., and yes, you may."

With that she, and the gal her mother now called Missy, sat down not only to play with

the necklace, but play pat-a-cake. The young child's laughter filled the air.

"Something wrong?" Cassie asked as she allowed the child to play with her necklace,

but saw the mother look as if she was going into major shock. "She can't hurt this item,

trust me. And I don't mind playing with her. I miss this kind of stuff. All my nieces, and

nephews, are too old for these kind of games." She spoke as a game of peek-a-boo was

started by the child.

Roarke's guest hadn't lied, the necklace was unbreakable. Well, maybe, not indestructible, but if the hyper-active Down Syndrome child her aunt had fostered hadn't

been able to destroy it, she doubted this young, petite, girl could. And the games? She

was being serious. She found it a delight to be around the young child.

"It's just.." The woman paused then hurried on. "I came here wanting her to have just

one day like all the other normal children. One who would talk and laugh. It didn't seem

to be happening and I .." Her face turned red, "was just now acting the fool. I should

have known Roarke would come through."

"No problem." Embarrassed at the assumption, but glad to be of help.

Roarke was watching her from among the trees. The outfit made her look soft, even

alluring. Those deep rich blue eyes, with her gentle smile woke feelings in him he thought

to be dead. It had been years since he'd buried his wife. Things had changed. No

longer did he have foreign TV crews crawling all over the island, sure people still came

for fantasies, but, with the economy switching, and people's values changing, they

weren't as many as when he first appeared on the island.

Those weren't the only changes either. Tattoo and left the island only to come back

after all the outside media had left. His step-son seldom visited him, and he'd felt

himself pulling away from those around him. Now this unknown woman.. No, lady.. Had

stepped off the plane, and he found himself unable to let go of the pull.

"Tattoo.." Roarke stepped out from the forested area and out into the meadow where his

guests could see him. "I think it's time you told the others to get the party started don't

you?" Before his employee, who was just as much a friend as anything else, could answer

Roarke turned to Cassie. "I will pick you up at seven. I'm sure that is plenty of time. Afterwards…" his voice was smooth as honey, but still very serious, "we need to

talk." His footsteps turned to go, but then riveted back. "And you will bring the envelope,

the one you were fingering upon your arrival, of course." Again the tone was not harsh,

but still stood firm.

"Of course." What else could she say? With that she too left to get ready for the party.


	3. Chapter 3

NOT to be copyrighted, sold, or published. Mr. Roarke, Tattoo, and Fantasy Island are

not of my own creation. Cassandra Jean Alderman and a few of her college friends are, but those are the only ones I created.

I did not write the words to the song Bei Mir Bist Du Schon; the original lyrics were by Jacob Jacobs and the English version by Sammy Cahn and Saul Chaplin.

BACKFIRE

Part 3

Originally, the plan had been to pick Cassie up for the dance, and then have a

discussion, but Roarke decided it was best to get the letter out of their hair and had the

lady sat down on the swing for their talk. However, before they'd even begun their

discussion the man found himself sizing her up.

The red dress with a loose flowing skirt, black jacket, and matching belt, flattered her

far more than the lavender outfit. Nonetheless, instead of wasting time on such idle chat

he asked for the letter. "Okay, but I don't see why, it's not like you don't know what's in

it." That puzzled him, but he kept the lifted eyebrows to himself.

It just wasn't the pointed facial feature he hid while he took ,and read, the letter. It was

also the urge throttle someone's throat. "I have to be honest with you, Cassie, I did not

write this letter, nor did I send you the tickets."

"Well, then who did?"

"I suspect you've been the victim of some childish college prank."

"Jimmy." Her voice bit out almost resentfully.

"Jimmy?"

"Jimmy, Paul and Tony. Maybe, even Joey, Ryan and Dawes." She sighed and leaned

back, "I should have known. They way they were acting the past few weeks." Cassie

fought against tears falling, "I'm sorry, I guess I have wasted your time and made a fool

of myself after all. I'll pack and leave. Don't worry about the dance." Going to rise she

found his hand on her arm.

"Don't leave yet, please. I'd.." pausing he smiled softly, "I'd honestly like to take you

dancing, and .." his grin got even wider, "What do you say to making their prank

backfire?"

"What do you mean?" Her curiosity got the better of her.

"They seem to think you're just some perpetual college student to be toyed with. Why

not show them who you are outside the classroom, and that true men know a gem when

they see one? Make them think twice before pulling such a stunt again?"

"You're on!" Cassie found herself laughing along with Roarke, not to mention finding

his arm around her as they stood up.

Mr. Roarke figured for the act to be believable they'd have to start before any invite

was sent to the six college aged males. So, he danced only with Cassie, sat at her table

asking questions that would help him know her better, and dared anyone to stop him from

singing to her. The woman knew it was all an act, but found herself loving every minute

of it. Her face never gave away the truth, and by the time they left the party talk was being

shot out about the man's romance.

"I told Tattoo to send the plane tickets and a letter to the six young men. They will be

arriving within the week." Roarke dropped her off at her bungalow. "See you in the

morning."

"You too." Roarke would have left without any other farewell, but he saw one of the

local gossipers nearby and, so, he gathered her in his arms and whispered, "We have an audience."

"Oh." She grinned and did not stop him from kissing her goodnight.

"I'm going to go make sure that letter has been taken care of. See you in the morning."

'_Let the show begin'_ was the last thought on her mind as she slipped into bed. _'Those _

_brats will deserve every once they get. I'll be myself, but , so, help me, I'm going to lay it _

_on thick.'_


	4. Chapter 4

NOT to be copyrighted, sold, or published. Mr. Roarke, Tattoo, and Fantasy Island are

not of my own creation. Cassandra Jean Alderman and a few of her college friends are, but those are the only ones I created.

BACKFIRE

Part. 4

Cassie stood in front of the mirror and couldn't believe the difference

simple colors made. The dark red of last night she'd loved, but didn't think

anything of. However, now as she stood in a dark blue dress which whole

attire sparkled she found herself touching the thin silver chain Roarke had

given her at the dance. Every dress he'd replaced either had a black jacket,

or matching one. This one fit the second category.

Not only did it match the dress, but it matched the shoes. And her hair?

She'd have to buy more of the shampoo the island girl had given her. Such

soft results, and the bounce? It was amazingly delicious. Reaching out to the

mirror it was if she wanted to see if the woman staring back at her was

really the one that had stepped off the boat.

"Oh, yes, my dear, it's you. The clothes haven't changed who you are, just

how you look." Roarke's voice got her head turned.

"I didn't even hear a knock, sorry. I'd have let you in if I had."

"Don't worry," the man waved his hand and shook his head, "I understand,

every female relative I know gets caught up in preparation for guests. Why

should you be any different?"

" I still can't believe this is me. I always thought of myself as plain, and

ordinary."

"You are many things, but plain and ordinary? I think not." With that he

stood behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. "I'd like to say

something on the record, so to speak, before we go greet our guests."

"Yes?"

"Our romance may be an act for them, but.." His eyes turned very serious,

"Your presence is not a burden to me, and I really _**do**_ enjoy your company.

You have great intelligence and have a very kind heart. Not to mention

your values are high." Turning her around he watched until she was looking

at him straight in the eye, "I do not fake what I think, or feel, to those I have

high regards for. Do you understand? And, in spite of what this Jimmy says,

or thinks, you are too good to allow yourself to be sitting on any shelf;

twenty-four seven as your college mates might say." Cassie's smile said it

all and he left off speaking.

Allowing him to lead her out the door she found herself unable to stop her

face from glowing. She'd had compliments from ex-boyfriends, but none as

open and honest as Roarke. He wasn't pretending in anything he said, or

did. How refreshing.

_Too bad this duo is all an act. A man like this I could readily accept into _

_my life. __Guess I'll have to settle for watching Jimmy eat crow._

"Are you alright?" Roarke glance down concerned over the sigh coming

out of her mouth.

"Yes, just thinking about Jimmy, and his friends."

"Don't worry." Patting her hand he assured her. "Everything will be all

right."

The object of their discussion walked with airs off the plane, the others

were right behind; including their girlfriends. All but one shy blonde

shared the same crooked elbow, and bloody nose, type of attitude.

"Hello, gentleman, I'm Mr. Roarke, your host, and you know, of course,

my lady, Cassie." He bit back any laughs he wanted to throw out. Every

single one of those males must have borrowed Tattoo's eyes, for he had to

clear his throat for them to put the things back in their sockets. "I'm glad to

see you took me serious and brought company along. I will show you to

your bungalows. And Cassie, can show your girlfriends to theirs."

"Follow me." Was all Cassie said, but she bit back any childish feelings

of 'HA, what do you think of me now?" Especially towards Ellen, Jimmy's

gal. She was just as bad as that male, if not worse.

The girls' bungalow was small, but comfortable, even Ellen had the

decency to say so. "I hope everything is satisfactory. If not, I'll be back later

and to gather any complaints Roarke needs to hear. Have nice day." With

that Cassie walked away wearing a mile wide grin.

"That can't be Cassandra!" Ellen blurted out as soon as the door shut.

"Sure sounded like her to me." Beth spoke quietly as if afraid

someone was going to have her head rolling for opening her mouth.

"Put a sock in it, Miss Mousy. I'm going to go find Jimmy." Ellen stormed

out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

NOT to be copyrighted, sold, or published. Mr. Roarke, Tattoo, and Fantasy Island are

not of my own creation. Cassandra Jean Alderman and a few of her college friends are, but those are the only ones I created.

BACKFIRE

Part 5

Ryan, and the guys, were all jocks. All had thought the letter would get

them a good laugh at the expense of the 'spinster'. However, now they were

massively confused.

"I consented to come because the tickets were paid for, the letter that come

with it raised a lot of questions, and last, but not least, you convinced me it

was because she was giving him major headaches, and wanted our help in

getting her off this island." Kendall's jaw tightened down. "Mr. Roarke sure

didn't look like man wanting any woman out of his hair. Tell me what is

going on!"

"Like I know? That can't be the Cassandra we know." Other words began

to fly out of mouths. Ones that showed the room was mixed in their

opinions as to what was going on. To top things off, Ellen came in with the

girls adding their own volume. Beth stayed on the outskirts growing more

an more uncomfortable until she slid out the door leaving the arguments,

and confusion, to the rest of the group.

The shy college student carefully found her way to the main house as the

group had spent their whole day in one mass confusion. Tattoo had,

purposely, added to the mess and then reported back to Roarke. "Boss,

there's the shy one now." He pointed to the gal coming up the steps. "I think

she's the only decent one in the bunch."

Beth knocked timidly and was shown in by Tattoo. "I …is it alright if I

talk to Cassie?" Her eyes trembled as if in fear of being told no. Mr. Roarke

leaned back and smiled. This one's only real fault was she needed a stronger

back bone.

"She's right next door. Go ahead and knock, I'm sure she'll let you in."

Beth took a few steps towards the door before stopping. The group's

arguments had her curiosity up. However it took all her courage to turn back

and ask Mr. Roarke the question she was dying to know. "Mr. Roarke?"

"Yes." The man smiled as if he already knew her question, but still waited

for her to answer.

"Is Cassie….is she…"

"Really my girl?"

"Yes." Beth rushed the word out before it had a chance to hide.

"What do you think?" crossing his arms he leaned back even further.

"If she's not….she…should be. She… looks at you like my mother does

my father." Her words had came out just as fast as the yes, and the girl

rushed out the door before seeing Roarke's shocked face.

"Boss…"

"Don't say a word, Tattoo. Don't say a word." Mr. Roarke's mind began to

do it's own thinking.

"Oh, Cassie, you look lovely." Beth gushed as her college roommate

came out of the bathroom wearing the same red outfit she'd worn on

convincing everyone she was Roarke's other half. "I wish I looked that

good. Maybe, I could get someone besides Frankie to look at me."

"Beth, you're a sweetheart, don't sell yourself short." Cassie's face

brightened, "wait here." With that she bolted to her a room and came out

with a pastel blue dress. "This is the only thing left of what I came with. But

I've figured out I look bad in it. On the other hand you look great in pastels.

Try it on, and I'll do your hair." Thirty minutes a 'new' Beth was looking in

the mirror.

"You're right, I am pretty." Beth lifted her head as if in defiance towards

her so called boyfriend. "Do you think Roarke would mind me sitting with

you two? I mean, we haven't exactly been nice to you. I …I should have

stood up for you before all this."

Beth was on the verge of telling Cassie about knowing about the letter,

however before she could Mr. Roarke spoke up making her jump. "Of

course, you may sit at our table. That is, if you don't mind us on the dance

floor a lot."

"No, no, I wouldn't mind."

"Let's go then." Roarke held out his hand to Cassie and smiled as Beth

followed the two out the door.

The tables were all sit as before and candles happily spouted off their new

silver, or glass, holders. Tiki lamps smiled smugly as they ruled the fence

lines. And Roarke noticed all the college students; except Beth, gathered at

one table. Their shy friend surprised everyone by telling Frankie to go take a

hike as he tried insisting she sit with him.

"I'm staying here, you can just find yourself a new girl."

"Good for you!" Mouthed Cassie just before Roarke gave the signal for the

band to start.

Cassie was easily pulled into the music as her partner moved just as

expertly to the sound of Spain rolling out of the instruments. Roarke's feet

matched that of the horns it seemed, and since he sported gray pants, and a

short sleeve, v-neck shirt, every move of his muscles could be seen.

It was if each move, each step told a story, complimented by hers. The age

old story of a man going after the woman he wants, and being chased by the

woman without knowing it. It was only when the last note sounded, and

Cassie was pulled up close to his torso did the story end. Loud clapping got

her eyes off his face, but Roarke had clearly seen the look Beth had

nervously spouted out. Instead of saying anything he guided her to where

Jimmy, and his friends, sat.

"May I ask how your day has gone?"

"Horrible! You call yourself a good host? It's been a mad house. No

schedules were left at our bungalow like the rest of the guests, no clean

towels.." Jimmy vented for a good ten minutes and was irked Mr. Roarke

did not seem inclined to give an apology. "Aren't you even going to say

sorry?"

"Why? I thought your group liked things that way."

"What in the blazes is that supposed to mean? No one wants their life that

way."

"Sir, you seemed to think I do, so," Roarke waved his hand and gave smile

with his mouth, but not his eyes. "I figured you all must too."

"What makes you think I thought that?"

"Well, you sent a guest my way I had no idea was coming. I had to hurry

out the office door, barely getting my jacket on time. None of the services

were ready that would have been in place had we'd been expecting a guest. I

arrive at the docks to find a lady stepping off the plane looking at me full of

nerves, but thinking surely I should know why she's there." He took a

breath only to control his rising ire. "You seem to think Cassie liked living

that way too. She had to fend for herself the first few hours, had no idea

what the schedule was either, nor where the clean towels were. My assistant

was thrown into a heart attack trying to relocate his own things as the only

room I had to give her was the one he was supposed to have moved into. So,

what was I supposed to think this fine group?"


	6. Chapter 6

NOT to be copyrighted, sold, or published. Mr. Roarke, Tattoo, and Fantasy Island are

not of my own creation. Cassandra Jean Alderman and a few of her college friends are, but those are the only ones I created.

BACKFIRE

Final chapter

Roarke's words about what everyone was supposed to have liked had

more than one conscious yelling, except Jimmy's. He didn't have the brain a

size of a pea. "You mean this was all an act? You two aren't even really

together?" Before Cassie could answer the boy rudely laughed. "I knew she

could only get a guy if it were an act. She'd have to have the phantom come

along just to get hitched!" Roarke instantly stood as if a board had been

shoved down his back, and he held Cassie tight before she had a chance to

run.

"Cassie's no woman, she's a lady!" His voice was not loud, but it was

strong, firm, and royally ticked. "She has more class in her little finger than

all of you put together. And she' very much my lady. I dare anyone to say

any different." His eyes blazed. "You will pack your things and leave on the

early morning flight, or you _**will**_ pay a fee for staying in your room, which.."

He smiled with his eyes still on fire, "is two thousand dollars a night."

"That's beyond highway robbery. You try to get that and we'll sue."

"Be my guest, but remember…you signed the agreement when you sent

back the letter." Roarke leaned close enough to make goose bumps rise on

the skin of the whole group. "So, I have the law on my side." Standing back

up he informed Tattoo, who was passing by of the bungalow being

available first thing in the morning. "If not, charge these students the regular

fee."

"Okay, Boss." Tattoo's smile showed who's side he was on.

"Let's dance, Cassie." Roarke attempted to get her to talk during the slow

dance, but found his partner pulling away and running towards a beach few

visited anymore. If the man's glare to the group had been hot before it now

had grown in degrees, and in sharpness. However, he left them alone and

went after Cassie.

The shore was barely visible, but still he saw the outline of his date's

figure huddled on one of the rocks. Another smooth one was behind it and

he made his way down the sandy path to where it sat. Cassie was so

wrapped up in crying that she failed to hear him walk up, or sit down right

behind her. Even when he wrapped his arms around her she kept her

legs pulled up under her chin.

"Cassie don't let them get to you. They're not worth it." Roarke's voice

was soft and gentle, as one might speak to a child being tormented by classmate's razzing.

"It's not that." She managed to get out, but then right back to sobbing

even though she now felt like an idiot for doing it with him around.

Roarke said nothing but an awareness only he could hold grew and he

quietly coaxed her into relaxing against him. Keeping one of his hands

around her waist he let his other trace the outline of her face, neck , and then

down her arm as he whispered words smooth as honey from a place inside

himself he seldom shared.

"They're not around, you don't have to act anymore. And I'll be gone by

morning. I can't afford to pay for any stay; especially not at the price quote

you gave them." Cassie tried to turn but found his grip, though gentle,

strong as iron.

"I'm not acting, Cassie. And that price _**is **_beyond highway robbery."

Roarke couldn't help but chuckle, "If they'd read the paper they'd have

known my client's hefty charge doesn't come from their rooms. I adjusted

their rates because they needed motivation to not drag their feet in leaving."

He reprimanded her, but not in a harsh tone, "Remember what I said before

we went to the dock's to greet them?"

"Yes, but…"

Sitting straight up the man insisted she her turn around to face him. "I don't lie." He lifted her chin and smiled with a twinkle in his eye, "And,

pray tell, what man in his right mind would charge his better half to stay

close by him?" His face had been lowered and she could feel his breath

against her skin. "Like I said, Cassie, I'm not acting. And I think.." Roarke

paused as he searched her eyes, "For the first time it's not just a visitor's

who's plan backfired on them. But.." Pulling her even closer, "Don't ask me

to have any regrets." His voice had grown husky, and volume was so low

she barely heard it before he captivated her mouth with his.

**Epilogue **

The morning after the beach scene had found the college group gone,

except Beth who had been invited to stick around for the wedding of Mr.

Roarke and Cassie. And Natives had rushed around getting ready for the

event. Tattoo had been shocked to find out his boss really was actually

going to get married. However the next month found Cassie standing next to

Roarke in a long flowing wedding gown with a sparkling white jacket

covering the top. Her father had given the bride away and Roarke was told

he could kiss the bride.

"This is one backfire I can happily live with." Roarke whispered in her ear

later that night.

"Me too." His bride then asked the same question as his first had.

"I'm Mr. Roarke your host." He gave the same reply back. And when her

next inquiry mirrored the question as to who Roarke really was the man

reached up and turned off the lights as he declared, with a seductive sound

to his voice, "I'm Mr. Roarke, your husband." With that all talking ceased.


End file.
